


(i don't want) to see you happy

by wolfchann



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Only hurt, Songfic, fushimi is a jealous baby and hates misaki what's new, inspired by One Song and that's all i used for it, lyrics are also used in the fic, there is no comfort, this is just. sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24029854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfchann/pseuds/wolfchann
Summary: Fushimi can't stand the happiness that Misaki has.
Relationships: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	(i don't want) to see you happy

**Author's Note:**

> song used: happy without you by monsta x
> 
> lyrics throughout the fic are all from said song!

> _Has it really been five months, six months?  
>  _ _Glad to see that we both moved on, moved on  
>  _ _Do you think about me sometimes?  
>  _ _'Cause I think about you sometimes  
>  _ _Didn't know you liked to party like that  
>  _ _Now you always got a drink in your hands  
>  _ _Cause you having fun but I'm not_

  
  
  


Fushimi doesn’t really know how it started to happen. He was fine -- for the past several months, he’s been content. Waltzing around Misaki, acting as if nothing had ever happened between them. Nothing about it had been hard; it was almost like his head and body were on autopilot, knowing where to go and where to be, without running into the idiot on a skateboard more than once a week. Eventually, he stopped seeing Misaki everywhere.

Until one day, Misaki was all he could see.

They ran within a thin line of a social circle. They had few friends that were mutual; even when they had been together, their social circles very much varied. Misaki with his group of ruffians, Fushimi with his group of more studious people. One or two people ran with both groups, which is how the two had eventually come to be.

That being said, even with such a small social link, Fushimi was suddenly seeing Misaki everywhere on his social media feeds. In his group chats. Even when he was walking to class, he would catch the slightest of glimpses at the redhead, gliding by with the wind, carried away in an instant.

The pictures Fushimi saw only made a gross tightening feeling appear in his gut, his face always twisting up in a mixture of emotions that he didn’t want to think about.

Misaki, always bright and smiling, a grin spread across his face. His cheeks were flushed -- whether from alcohol, or maybe someone else, Fushimi couldn’t be sure -- and he’d have an arm thrown around someone. Usually it’d be his best friend, Rikio, but sometimes, it’d be a stranger that Fushimi had never seen before.

Fushimi didn’t even know Misaki _went_ to parties. When they were together, they spent a lot of their time indoors. Now that he thinks back on it, he was sure that Misaki would have preferred it if they **had** gone out. But… it was too late to think on things like that. What happened, happened, and there was nothing Fushimi could do about it. All he could do was skim past these pictures, eyebrows furrowed in some type of way, and try to focus on something, _anything_ , that wasn’t Misaki.

It was hard.

  
  
  


> _'Cause I hate to see you happy without me  
>  _ _I should really want the best for you  
>  _ _But you know I got to tell the truth  
>  _ _And I hate to see you happy without me  
>  _ _I know I told you that we'd still be friends  
>  _ _But I see pictures of you smiling  
>  _ _And I hate to see you happy without me_

  
  
  


In retrospect, Fushimi knows he shouldn’t be thinking in such a way. He should really be glad. Misaki wasn’t moping around like he had in the beginning, when they first broke up. No more longing stares, no more frowns or pouts, no more begging Fushimi’s friends to give him some sort of stupid message; nothing.

And part of him was relieved. He reveled in the fact that Misaki was no longer being that annoying, clingy type of ex.

So why, of all things, was Fushimi _missing_ that type of attention?

When they broke up, Fushimi thought that they would be able to work around the crumbling of their hearts, and make mend a broken friendship. But it was hard, with the way that Misaki had been acting at first. When Misaki gave him distance, Fushimi didn’t question it, and he didn’t go seeking anything from him. He wanted this time to himself, because he felt he deserved it.

One particular picture that he saw made his stomach churn, his heart clench far too hard for his liking, and his mind spiral out of control: Misaki, smiling the widest he’d seen since nearly eight months ago, with a guy kissing his cheek.

Now, there’s nothing particularly romantic about cheek kisses. Fushimi knows this. Family members, siblings, best friends; they’re all people who kiss your cheeks, in a way that’s meant to be comforting and platonic. But there’s something that clicks in the very back of his mind that turns him into a steaming pipe, hand curling around his phone, knuckles turning white.

He shouldn’t be angry. He shouldn’t be… _jealous_. But he is.

Fushimi’s jealous, and it hurts.

His phone laid abandoned on his desk that night, notification light blinking at the many missed texts and notifications.

  
  
  


> _Yeah I know it didn't work out together  
>  _ _But somehow you got me worse than ever  
>  _ _I don't think about you sometimes  
>  _ _'Cause I think about you all the time  
>  _ _And it's crazy 'cause honestly I'm doing okay  
>  _ _But the other ones I'm talking to don't feel the same at all  
>  _ _Maybe I'm just really good at faking smiles  
>  _ _Posting all those pictures 'cause you know that I will see_

  
  
  


The next time they meet in person, Fushimi is actually at one of the parties. It’s a brief meeting; wide eyes meeting dark ones, a moment of tension passing between them, before Misaki is whisked away by Tatara. Tatara’s saying something, but Fushimi can’t make it out, by audio, or by reading his lips. All he knows is Misaki’s face and shoulders sag, and he turns away with no hesitation.

The ordeal makes Fushimi’s blood boil, his heart race. He doesn’t know if it’s out of anger or jealousy anymore.

Hours pass. Fushimi’s not sure how long he’s been there, or how many drinks he’s had. He’s never been much of a drinker, but constantly watching Misaki has made him drink more than he ever has in the past year of his life. He downs the rest of his current drink, slamming the glass down onto the table. No one pays him any mind when he does; there’s too much chaos amongst the other students at the party.

All he sees is Misaki. All he thinks of is Misaki. There’s too many thoughts swirling around in his mind. He feels like he’s going to throw up, but he doesn’t feel the urge to get up. He’s hoping it’ll pass, and maybe he’ll just pass out instead.

Fushimi isn’t really sure how he ends up back at his dorm room by the end of the night. He just remembers being flung around like some kind of doll, before being thrown against a mattress. His room was too dark to see. He could only make out some kind of figure in the darkness, and the faintest of smiles on their face; sadness lurking behind eyes.

And then Fushimi was out like a light.

  
  
  


> _I know I told you that we'd still be friends  
>  _ _But I see pictures of you smiling (I see pictures of you smiling)  
>  _ _And I hate to see you happy without me  
>  _ _Me, me (I don't wanna see you happy)  
>  _ _And I hate to see you happy without me_

  
  
  


A few months have passed since that night. Fushimi hasn’t touched another party since. He’s learned to avoid them, at all costs. Part of him believes Misaki was the one who took him home that night, but there was no way he would ever ask about it. Not to his friends, not to Tatara, and most definitely not to Misaki himself.

He dwells over it in those months, avoiding his phone like the plague most of the time. He’s turned off notifications for anything that wasn’t text messages or calls; nothing else really mattered.

Fushimi could barely stand himself, becoming so wrapped up in what _Misaki_ was doing. He had too much to worry about. But here he was, turning into exactly what Misaki had been in the beginning; the forlorn, lost-puppy-seeming ex boyfriend. And it irritated him to no end. It made him angry with himself, unable to do anything about his own ritualistic habits now.

Fushimi hates it all. He shouldn’t; really, he shouldn’t. He should be so _ecstatic_ , glad that Misaki is healing in a proper way. Maybe he’s moved on, like he thought Fushimi had in the beginning.

But he can’t be.

He sees Misaki’s smiles, and he wishes they were caused by him.

He watches Misaki laugh, wanting to be the one who made him double over.

He eyes Misaki being held by other people, aching to have those arms be his.

Fushimi can’t stand it. It makes him angry and sick and he wants to throw a damn _tantrum_ . He feels like a child, and he can’t stand it. He blames Misaki. Everything is Misaki’s fault, he’s settled on. If Misaki just hadn’t been so fucking **open** about things, maybe he wouldn’t be feeling this way. He doesn’t want to feel like this. He doesn’t want to see Misaki’s newfound happiness -- because it doesn’t involve him.

He doesn’t want to see Misaki happy.

He wants to see him crumble away inside, just like him.

**Author's Note:**

> there's nothing to say except i'm sorry and that's about all i got. the song just inspired me to write something angsty for some type of ship, and i thought... what better ship than sarumi??? so uh yeah there's that. thanks for reading!


End file.
